


I Saw You

by bklt



Series: Texts [2]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Coming Out, F/F, First Dates, Homophobia, Nightmares, Sexuality Crisis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-04-12 13:35:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19133077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bklt/pseuds/bklt
Summary: “Well,” Waverly began, suddenly nervous, “we haven’t like, hung out, hung out yet. Like…”“Like a date?”Nicole and Waverly are finally together. Now they have to deal with everything that comes after.Queue deep conversations about high school homophobia, coming out to a century and a half old cowboy, and secrets the two of them can't reveal to each other.





	1. Getting Close

**Author's Note:**

> Another fic inspired by the texts on theroadtopurgatory. This one sort of got away from me. 
> 
> And a little headcanon I have about Doc and Waverly: 
> 
> When Doc leaves Purgatory in season one, Waverly tells Doc that she's "trying with Nicole." That made me think that she had already been out to him, and I like the idea that she was able to talk to him about it. Because, hey, Doc and Waverly interactions are great.

_Am I dreaming? Are you real? Did that happen?_

🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄

🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄

🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄

💋

 

It’d been fifteen minutes that Nicole had been in her car since she got off work. She’d been sitting, dazed, staring at her phone screen in disbelief and flying so high that she didn’t trust herself to drive until she’d calmed down. Because this was happening. Really, truly, honest to god happening.

She’d been kissed by Waverly Earp.

Nicole would be lying if she hadn’t thought about what it’d be like when it happened, what was said before and where they’d be, what Waverly’s lips would feel like and what flavour of chapstick she’d taste. Yet out of all the different scenarios she dreamt up, nothing ever came close to _that._ Nicole didn’t expect Waverly to literally jump on her, to back her onto the couch and kiss her with that much desperation, her lips colliding ungracefully yet so perfect with her own. Starfruit. It ended up being starfruit.

_But, odds. It’s not so easy to be brazen...when the thing you want, that scares you to death...is sitting right in front of you._

Only Waverly Earp—witty, intelligent, Waverly Earp—could come up with something articulate to say in a moment like that, word-perfect like a scene out of a romance novel. And brazen Waverly was, their first kiss turning into their second, third, fourth…

Nicole didn’t bother counting after that. She was too focused on the hands exploring her face and neck, the legs wrapped around her waist, Waverly’s hazel eyes opening as if she too needed proof that it was real. And it was. It was real and incredible and was completely inhibiting Nicole’s ability to start her car.

Placing her phone onto the passenger seat, Nicole shook herself and started the engine. She was going to need a cold shower if she had any hope of waking herself up and becoming a functional human being.

And it was the first order of business when she got home, the drive sobering her racing thoughts into a reasonable cruise, the cold water just the right amount of refreshing and brisk. Now that she had calmed down, practicality won over. Because, as amazing as everything was, the inevitable question had to be addressed; what now?

In her past relationships, the unspoken default had been “not public until explicitly stated”—and with Waverly, it was almost a certainty that it would be that way. To her knowledge, Waverly was not only still in the closet, but she’d just figured out there was even a closet for her to be in. Whether she knew it or not, there would be an adjustment period, little things and small realizations that came from suddenly taking on a new identity. It was exhilarating, confusing, and scary all at once, and Nicole was determined to help Waverly as best as she could, that she be there for all the ups and downs of discovery.

And of course, there was discovering each other. How they’d work as a unit, what quirks they had when no one was looking, food preferences, favourite bands…

Nicole was giddy again. She’d been kissed by Waverly Earp. Whatever came next was going to be an adventure of the best kind.

* * *

 

When the door to Black Badge shut behind her, Waverly had to force her legs to walk, not run, over to the bullpen of the Purgatory’s Sheriff’s Department. Despite only being across the hall, she was adamant that she not waste a spare moment. At maximum she had ten minutes before Wynonna and Dolls would be curious about her absence. Waverly was quickly running out of reasons to excuse herself, and Wynonna’s “did you fall in” quips weren’t any funnier after the first time.

Her smile broke free when she passed through the double wooden doors when she saw her source of excitement was already looking up at her from the corner of the room.

It was obvious that Waverly had caught Nicole in the middle of sneaking a glance toward the hallway, wanting to play it cool and casual as if she hadn’t kept her ears perked for Waverly’s footsteps. As collected as Nicole was, she certainly wasn’t subtle, and especially not when it came to Waverly. She wouldn’t tell her that, though; it was too cute seeing Nicole was excited as she was.

“Hey you!”

“Hey yourself.” Waverly floated past reception and to Nicole’s desk, resting her hand on an empty space amidst the neat stacks of paperwork. “Busy?”

“If you can call it that,” Nicole held up a half filled report. “After all the stuff with that serial killer, everything seems pretty mild in comparison.”

Waverly winced. The cut above Nicole’s eyebrow still hadn’t healed. “How are you feeling?”

“Better than those other girls.” Nicole’s forehead knitted in guilt. “I was lucky.”

“Hey, being thrown on the side of the road and left for dead isn’t exactly what I’d call lucky.”

“I’m alive,” she shrugged. “What about you? Are you okay?”

“Handling it like Waverly,” she said. Nicole tilted her head and narrowed her eyes.

“Y’know, Wynonna gave the same answer when I asked about you, after the scissoring a stripper incident.”

Waverly scoffed. “Of course she did.” She didn’t want to talk about it—not like she could if she wanted to. Waverly thought she knew what she was getting into by being with Nicole, that she was aware there were things she’d have to keep hidden from her. At this point, though they hadn’t been with each other long, Waverly was beginning to think she gravely miscalculated.

“You can talk to me, Wave.” The concern was evident in Nicole’s eyes—like _everything_ was—but the sentiment was ultimately an offer Waverly couldn’t take. Not about this. And, maybe, not about any of it.

“You’re sweet,” Waverly swallowed, hoping Nicole couldn’t see deeper than the surface. “I’ll be okay. I actually came down here to ask—what’re you doing after work tomorrow?”

Nicole smiled coyly. “Depends on why you’re asking.”

“Well,” Waverly began, suddenly nervous, “we haven’t like, hung out, hung out yet. Like…”

“Like a date?”

 _A date. That’s what this will be._ “Yeah. Anywhere that isn’t work, as romantic as this stunning location is.”

“I dunno. It’s had its moments.” Nicole glanced at the door to Nedley’s office, the two of them grinning at each other in the shared memory of their first kiss. And wow. That kiss.

“What’d you have in mind?” Nicole asked.

“I know it’s rude to invite yourself over to someone else’s place, but mine’s a little out of commission right now. If...that’s okay with you?” Waverly held her breath and hoped Nicole wouldn’t ask more about the Stone Witch’s attack. Nicole already had her suspicions when it came to Purgatory; in fact, she already tried asking Waverly about it. The two of them weren’t exactly on the same page during that disaster of a conversation, Waverly essentially attempting to come out while Nicole was asking about werewolves, or something. At least she wouldn’t have had to lie about that. There weren’t any werewolves in Purgatory...that she knew of. Or more accurately, not yet.

To her relief, Nicole didn’t mention it. “You don’t have to feel rude about wanting to come over. I can make us dinner?”

“Oh my god, please. Anything that isn’t Wynonna’s three cheese Pizza Pockets or Shorty’s potato wedges.” Waverly’s stomach lurched when she mentioned her bar— _Bobo’s_ bar. That a-hole. What did he have to gain from buying it out, aside from royally pissing her off?

“Well, there goes all of my dinner ideas,” Nicole sighed, Waverly crossing her arms with a smirk. “I’ll have to make something else. You’re vegetarian, right?”

“Trying to go vegan. But I’ll eat whatever you make. It’s easier that way.” It was a compromise Waverly made whenever she was around other people, namely because if she didn’t, she’d have to live on meals of bread and side salads whenever she went anywhere.

“I’m not gonna make something you don’t want!” Nicole scoffed. “I’ll make the biggest kale salad you’ve ever seen.”

“Oh good, I love living off of various leaves! Don’t forget the plate of raw vegetables while you’re at it.”

Nicole feigned offense. “I wouldn’t dare.”

“Then it’s...it’s a date!” Waverly stood up, giving the smoothest fingerguns she could manage—so, not very smooth. “Tomorrow. After work.”

“Tomorrow after work.” That dimpled smile again, making Waverly’s heart flutter like a leaf in the wind. Seriously, how could a smile do this to her?

It was only until she walked back into BBD that Waverly realized she’d forgotten to put her poker face back on. Dolls peered from behind his laptop. “Talking to Officer Haught?”

Busted. “Yep. Just...checking in. After I went to the washroom.”

Dolls sat back and crossed his arms, scanning Waverly with a dull expression. Reading Dolls was always difficult. "You know you can just, say you have to step out, right?" 

"Oh. Yeah, totally. I know. I just had to use the washroom."

"Uh huh."

Waverly nodded and went over to the map of the Ghost River Triangle, pretending to look for something of interest, and definitely not thinking about tomorrow.

* * *

 

Waverly barely got any sleep that night. She woke well before her alarm, before the sun could begin to shine through her eastward facing window. Anticipation made her rest fragmented, the reality of today making her head swirl. Rationally there wasn’t anything to worry about. Nicole had already seen Waverly at her most embarrassing, soaked and beer and telling Nicole about how she had a boyfriend. But still. Their first date night was nothing Waverly could approach lightly.

Concluding that it was useless to try and sleep, Waverly slipped out of her layer of blankets and turned on the light, rummaging through her closet for something to wear. It’s not as if she had to dress up. At this point Waverly was positive that she could wear a clown costume complete with matching makeup and Nicole would love it. But she was adamant that she do this right, that she have some sense of normalcy amidst the chaos her life had become. _You’re overthinking this,_ she scolded herself. _Just pick something._

After she finally decided on something to wear, she threw it on and snuck her way to the washroom to apply her makeup, hoping Wynonna wouldn’t see her skulking around their own home. Part of it was because she’d been having trouble sleeping, and Waverly wanted her well rested for once. The other…

“That you, babygirl?”

Fudge. “Wynonna. Hi.”

Standing up from her bench, Wynonna stumbled over to her little sister, exhausted and ghostly in the faint glow of the porchlight through the curtains. It looked like she didn’t make it to bed before she passed out. “You’re dressed up.”

“Oh. Yeah. I’m going to Nicole’s after today, so…”

Waverly eyed Waverly with suspicion. Too many people had been doing that as of late, and she wasn't used to it. “You two are getting close.”

“I didn’t have many friends outside of Champ, so, better late than never, right?”

“Ah, yeah, the whole “start dating someone and never see your friends again” thing.” Wynonna frowned. “But you had to be friends with a cop?”

“Aren’t _you_ a cop now? Like, supercop times a hundred?”

“Wow, rude. You can’t just call someone a cop.” Wynonna sighed and patted Waverly on the shoulder, who rolled her eyes and shrugged off Wynonna’s hand. “Hey. I’m just kidding. I’m glad you broke up with Champ. He was such a tool even by Purgatory standards. You deserve someone who can keep up with how awesome and smart you are.”

Luckily for her, thought Waverly, Nicole could do that and more. “Tell me about it. Did you know when I found the skull he said I’d “always be the keeper of his boner”? Gross.

“Wow, that line wouldn’t even work on me.”

“And he wanted us to move to Buenos Aires to open a bar! He wanted me to be a barmaid even there! Aspirations, much?”

“Ew. Yikes.”

“Yeah. Ew and yikes.”

Wynonna reached out and drew Waverly into a hug, giving her a quick kiss on the top of her head. “Well, next time you find a guy you wanna date, make sure they’re someone I slightly approve of, ‘kay?”

“Uh huh, yep, a guy,” Waverly said too quickly, wiggling out of Wynonna’s arms and sidling her way past to the washroom. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

By the time she was ready and opened the door to the hallway, the house was already brighter with the light of the morning. Waverly loved the way her home looked in the early hours of dawn. No matter what baggage the Homestead carried within its walls, the sunrise was always enough to burn them away, if only for a moment.

With a face full of makeup and an outfit curated more than Waverly wanted to admit, she took to making a pot of coffee and herself a cup of black tea, sweet and cinnamon with a bit of milk and sugar. There was no point in looking for breakfast. There was never enough time to do actual grocery shopping, and even less time to prepare proper meals. The Earp sisters were effectively relegated to microwaveable dinners and takeout. The only breakfast Waverly could have had—her box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch—was mysteriously absent, no doubt a casualty of Wynonna’s drunk snacking.

Looking out the window, she saw the expanse of the Earp land covered in a layer of untouched snow, the sun peeking out from the expanse of trees. Waverly could see Doc outside on the porch, lost in his thoughts and smoking a hand-rolled cigarette. She poured a cup of coffee for him and slipped into her jacket, making her way outside to feel the brisk morning air on her cheeks. Doc turned at the sound of the opening door, tipping his hat and taking the cup of coffee offered him.

“Mornin’ Waverly.”

“Hey Doc.”

He took a sip of his coffee and looked Waverly up and down. “Is there a special occasion I seem to have forgotten about?”

“What?”

“Your outfit.”

“Oh. No, I’m seeing Nicole after work and thought I’d look presentable.” She gripped her cup of tea through her fuzzy mittens, hoping it would warm her fingers.”

“I see.” Doc took a drag of his cigarette, the air smelling of sweet tobacco, the smoke swirling lazily around his chest. “You ladies are getting mighty close these days.”

“Not you too!” Doc tilted his head, needing clarification. Waverly sighed. “Sorry. Wynonna’s been saying the same thing. Like what, I’m not allowed to have friends?”

“Ohh, we both know it is more than that.” His mustache twitched into his mug.

Waverly’s blood froze. “What do you mean?”

“Waverly, I do not need to be a card sharp to pick up on the way you two look at each other.”

There was no use lying about it. Doc was a master of deception and he had seen right through Waverly’s attempt at it. “That obvious, huh?”

Doc chuckled. “I see you worked up the courage to tell her of your affections.”

“How do you know it was me who did it first?”

Throwing away his cigarette, he put his hand in his pocket and removed his hat, his jaw moving in contemplation. “I admit that I am unfamiliar about this particular, ah…”

“Gay stuff?” Waverly offered.

His expression halted, the face he made when he was mildly confused. “Sure. “Gay stuff”. But if it is anything how it was back in my day, I do know that it is very complicated.”

“Not much has changed on that end,” Waverly mumbled. “Well, maybe less complete social ostracization.”

“I see. My guess is Miss Haught did not want to get you into something before you were ready, before you came to your own conclusions on such a revelation.” His eyes softened in the morning light. “It was always up to you.”

Something caught in Waverly’s throat, her lips tightening as she stared down into her cup. She felt Doc’s hand on her shoulder, giving her a light squeeze of comfort.

“Officer Haught is a good woman. Tough as nails, strong. You look very happy with her.”

Clearing her throat, Waverly looked out towards the empty field. “I am. She’s...she’s really great.”

Dropping his hand, Doc finished up his coffee, setting the empty mug on the porch railing. “Am I to assume Wynonna is not privy to this information?”

“Not yet. I don’t know how to tell her.” It made Waverly feel guilty. What did it say about her that she couldn’t confide with her own sister about something like this?

“Perhaps that is something you can talk to Miss Haught about?”

Waverly thought about it before. She was overwhelmed by all of this, and she knew it was old hat for Nicole. But Waverly was hesitant. She didn’t want to treat Nicole as her own personal expert in all things queer related, or to show that she was completely out of her depth.

“Yeah. Maybe I will,” Waverly said. “Thanks Doc. This was surprisingly easy.”

“Never much cared about all of that—the “gay stuff.” ‘Aint nobody’s business but their own.” Waverly had to stifle a giggle. He was really trying. For an over one hundred year old cowboy, Doc was better at accepting things than people of her own time. “You deserve all the happiness in the world, darlin’. It makes me happy that you have found yours.”

With a smile that Waverly could’ve sworn had a hint of sadness, he placed his hat on his head and tipped it to Waverly, leaving her alone with her half-drunk tea and new things to think about.

* * *

 

Nicole was fighting a losing battle. It was taking every ounce of strength to keep from looking up at the clock, knowing that she’d only be disappointed by what she’d see. She was itching to do anything else than sit at her desk, something to keep her mind off of the anticipation of tonight. A noise complaint at a perfectly reasonable time to be noisy. A petty squabble. Anything.

She looked at the clock out of reflex and inwardly cursed. Not even noon yet.

At least noon, if it ever decided to come, would carry her through the rest of her shift. Waverly would either come by or call, keeping Nicole floating long enough that she could get through any mundane task before her. She felt like a teenager waiting around for her crush to show up, making sure her lipstick was applied right at 11:59 am. And when Waverly would come through the doors…

Everything moved in slow motion whenever he entered the room, her gorgeous smile brighter than the sun, leaving Nicole stunned in its rays. Before they were together, Nicole wanted so badly to be the cause of that light, the one who could make Waverly as happy as she made her. And now? She had to pinch herself whenever Waverly as much as grazed her hand. That residual feeling of longing was still there, her brain still not registering that the wait was over. The only thing she had to wait for was 5:00pm.

Nicole shuffled her papers, looking at the pages without reading them. Even though she saw Waverly every day, she had little to no clue what she or Black Badge even did. “Unusual cases”, according to Dolls; or as Wynonna so politely put it, cases “too complex for rookie flatfoots”. The most frustrating part was that Nedley seemed just as tired with Black Badge’s mysterious bullshit but treated her like she was wrong for being suspicious. After getting kidnapped and left to die on the side of the road, Nicole deserved an explanation on what was happening in Purgatory. As far as she was concerned, she’d had enough of excuses about random cult killings and wild coyote attacks.

Tossing the report on her desk, Nicole watched the paper slide across and get caught in a pile of work she had yet to make a dent in, bringing her head into her hands. No matter what she tried to rationalize, everything added up where it shouldn’t, and it all came down to the same absolutely ridiculous conclusion; something supernatural was at play in Purgatory.

Yet she couldn’t wrap her head around why the Earp sisters were caught in the middle of it all. From what Nicole knew about Waverly, her skillset was oddly specific. A university degree in ancient languages, a photographic memory of Purgatory’s history? What made a small town girl who just happens to know ancient Sumerian and old superstitions the perfect candidate or Black Badge anyways? And how did someone like Wynonna, the last person who should be given any sort of deputization, the most important person in the whole department? Then there was her gun, that Buntline Special that never left her side…

The strangest part was that the Earp sisters seemed oddly unphased by the cases they received, as if they somehow expected all of these things. Bobo Del Rey buying Shorty’s seemed to be the only thing that got under their skin. Nicole didn’t need superior intuition to know that Bobo was bad news, but him buying out the bar seemed odd, as if it was a specific, directed insult at the Earps. Like he needed them rattled.

The ring of her desk phone jolted Nicole from her train of thought. She didn’t have to look at the clock to know it was finally noon. Clearing her throat, Nicole picked up the heavy black receiver and put a smile in her voice.

“Officer Haught.”

“Hello _Officer,_ ” Waverly’s voice teased. “That’s an interesting last name. What is it? English?”

“Some jumble of wasp, probably.”

“Well by the sound of your voice, I can tell it’s very fitting, _Haught_.”

Nicole rolled her eyes with a grin, picturing Waverly smiling coyly from the other side of the line. She decided to play along. “So, what is the nature of your call?”

“The emergency beverage kind. I was getting coffee and was won—Wynonna I’m on the phone-”

There was muffled scraping, which Nicole figured was the sound of Waverly’s palm covering the phone. She wondered if Wynonna knew who Waverly was talking to. They hadn’t exactly been amiable last time they spoke, and now she was with Waverly, the most important thing to her in the entire world. Nicole got the impression that no one was good enough to date Waverly in Wynonna’s eyes, and their tenuous relations would only be evidence of that. Well, that and the obvious new development that her sister was into women.

Waverly’s voice came back. “Sorry. Anyways, did you want that coffee? Lunch? I can bring it up to you.”

“Just a smoothie. I’m too wired for coffee.” Nicole looked around the bullpen to make sure no one was within earshot. “Too excited for tonight.”

“God, same. I can barely focus...and I think Dolls knows why.”

 _Oh, he knows,_ thought Nicole. The amount of weirded-out side eye Dolls gave the two of them was indication enough, “He might. He _is_ some sort of secret agent.”

“Yeah, well, apparently it doesn’t take secret covert-ops agent expertise in body language to figure it out. Henry knows.”

“Uh, Henry “looks like he came out of a Clint Eastwood movie” Henry?”

“More like Gunfight At The O.K Corral, but yep. That Henry. And he was fine with it. Helpful, actually.”

“I’m surprised. He seems so…”

“Traditional?”

It was the right word, but it seemed lacking in a way Nicole couldn’t place. “Yeah. Traditional.”

“Henry’s full of surprises. But hey, I gotta go. I’ll tell you about it later.”

“I’ll see you soon?”

“With smoothie in hand!” Waverly perked up.

They said their goodbyes, leaving Nicole to slump back into her chair, idly tapping her fingers on the desk. Five more hours. She could do this.

 

* * *

To her surprise and disappointment, it wasn’t Waverly who walked into the bullpen to deliver her smoothie.

Wynonna came barging in, all boots and hair and set the drink on Nicole’s desk, nodding at the surprised officer with taught lips. “Special delivery for Haught.”

Hiding her disappointment, Nicole forced a smile, taking the smoothie and holding it in her lap. “Thanks.”

The eldest Earp nodded, not moving from beside her and sliding the reports around on Nicole’s desk. “How ah, how’ve you been holding up?”

“Could be worse.” Nicole was internally screaming at Wynonna shuffling around her things but controlled herself. “What about you? I heard you took down the killer.”

“Yeah. Won’t be hurting anyone anymore.” Nicole took her hand away from the desk and cleared her throat, still not looking at Nicole when she spoke. “Haught. I uh...I’m sorry. About what I said. The “rookie flatfoot” thing.”

Their eyes finally met, Nicole’s expression softening when she got a good look at her. Wynonna didn’t look like herself. She clearly hadn’t slept for a while, but her eyes had a dangerous fire in them like she’d never seen. “Hey, don’t worry ‘bout it. It was a weird night.” _As it always is around here._ “I should’ve have implied you were crazy. That was insensitive.”

“Well, you wouldn’t be the first to think I was crazy and you sure as hell won’t be the last.” Wynonna’s nostrils flattened in weary anger. Nicole knew all the stories, of course, how Wynonna claims she saw demons on the night she killed her father, how they were the ones who attacked the Homestead. Before everything, Nicole thought it was the product of a traumatized little girl’s imagination, that it was understandable she’d see demons. Now, incredibly, Nicole was starting to believe that Wynonna wasn’t imagining what she saw.

“Look, I know you can’t say anything about what happened about our abduction, but there has to be something you can give me.”

“Wish I could. It was just a serial killer, Nicole. Well. “just” a serial killer isn’t-” she stammered, “you know what I mean.”

Nicole squeezed her plastic cup, feeling the condensation against her palm. Of course Wynonna wasn’t going to give her any answers. “Yeah. Sure.”

Wynonna sighed, standing up straight and letting her shoulders fall. “I know all the victims looked like me. I know, I _know_ it’s another weird thing that involves me. But please don’t ask me anymore. I don’t know any more than you do.”

The desperation in her voice was palatable, enough that Nicole lost all desire to push her any further, regardless of the fact that she was definitely still lying. “Okay. I won’t.”

“Okay.” Wynonna turned to leave, shuffle-stepping backwards as before she remembered something. “Oh, heard Waverly’s going to your place after work. You kids have fun,” she smirked.

“Aren’t I like, the same age as you?” Nicole said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Wynonna waved her hand dismissively, walking out the doors and back to Black Badge.

Taking a sip of her smoothie, Nicole grumbled in frustration, still no closer to answers about Purgatory. At least her and Wynonna were on better terms. Maybe it’d make things easier for Waverly when the time came.


	2. Fingertips

“So you do have a car that isn’t a cruiser!”

After the slowest day imaginable, five o’clock had finally come, the two of them standing in the parking lot of the station. The autumn cold nipped at Waverly’s cheeks, causing her to bundle her jacket close to her body with a shiver. The cold was not something she handled particularly well. However, in this situation, she wondered how much was the chill and how much of it was her overfiring nerves.

Nicole laughed. She took off her Stetson and unlocked the doors to her red Toyota hatchback. “What, you think I drive my Crown Vic everywhere?”

“Sorta, yeah.” Waverly slid into the car, noting how it had the cleanest interior she’d ever seen. Of course Nicole was a neat freak. The car still _smelled_ like car.

They were quiet as Nicole pulled out, the two of them locked in awkward silence. It was their first time being alone-alone since they got together. No looking over their backs, no stolen kisses around corners or secret make-outs in Nedley’s office. It was just them; and it was sort of terrifying.

“You can turn the radio on if you want.” Nicole gripped the steering wheel harder than she needed to.

“What CD do you have in?” Waverly reached for the power button, causing Nicole to panic.

“I-well, I was feeling nostalgic-”

Waverly’s eyes widened at the song. She could recognize that brass line anywhere. “Okay, not what I was expecting, but I am pleasantly surprised and here for it.”

“A nostalgia playlist isn’t complete without them.”

“Hey, I get it. Who doesn’t like the Spice Girls, right?”

Nicole relaxed and dropped her hand from the wheel into her lap. “No one fun.”

The music was contagious, Waverly tapping along on the car door and humming along as she looked outside the window. She used to come to this side of town a lot when she was little to visit Chrissy Nedley. The newly promoted Randy Nedley always welcomed Waverly into their home-in fact, he encouraged her to come over as often as possible. It was an escape for Waverly, where she could be away from the chaos that was life after the attack, where things could be simple for once. All Waverly had to worry about was the dirt on her hands, or how much fun her and Chrissy could squeeze out of fifteen minutes before Uncle Curtis would arrive to take her home. They’d spend their afternoons watching cartoons and playing at the park, or up in Chrissy’s room talking about boys (ha), or how mean Steph was. A weight hooked itself onto Waverly’s chest. If they knew what would happen to Steph then, maybe they wouldn’t have said the things they did.

“You have a nice voice,” Nicole said quietly.

“Oh.” Waverly hadn’t noticed she was humming. “Thanks.”

Not knowing how to follow up on her comment, Nicole fiddled with the volume knob on her stereo, landing on the same number it started on and falling back into her seat.

“When you were a kid, did you ever pretend to be the Spice Girls with your friends?” Waverly asked.

“Yep. You can guess who I was forced to be,” Nicole said.

Waverly giggled. “Guess you didn’t have many options, huh?”

“Which is completely unfair. I’m definitely Sporty.”

No argument from Waverly there. “You’re doomed to be every redhead forever. Ginger, Jessie from Toy Story. Dana Scully.”

“I can live with Scully,” Nicole gave an appreciative nod. “How accurate is the X-Files, do you think?”

“As accurate as extraterrestrial stuff can be,” Waverly said, keeping her voice even. She knew what Nicole was leading up to.

“Y’know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were part of the X-Files. Secret government agency, all that weird stuff…”

“Ha, well I’d be a lot more interesting if I was. And speaking of being someone else,” Waverly clumsily danced away from Nicole’s line of questioning and back to their previous conversation. “Guess which Spice Girl I was?”

“That’s easy.” Nicole stole a quick glance at Waverly, her voice dropping as she gave her answer. “Baby.”

Waverly’s stomach jumped to her throat.

The song changed to something she didn’t recognize, soothing female vocals over a distant, jazzy trumpet and a blanket of rhodes piano.

 _Sometimes I feel it burning,  
__That deep and primal yearning  
__I feel it burn, burn, burning.  
__I try to live without it,  
__But then I think about_  
Those fingertips, those fingertips.

"This is nice,” Waverly said.

“Yeah. Poe.” A small smile. “Used to listen to her a lot in high school.”

The song evoked something secret for Nicole, her expression wistful and far away, and Waverly too was drawn in. They bathed in the music as one, their silence void of the previous awkwardness in the shared experience. Outside, the snow dusting the tree branches glowed in the incoming sunset.

They eventually made one final turn, Nicole pulling into the driveway of a decent sized home with sky blue panelling and white trim. “We’re here.”

Exiting the car, they made their way up to the house, Nicole opening the screen door and putting her keys into the lock, letting Waverly step in before her under her raised arm.

There was really only one way to describe what Waverly saw. It was so  _Nicole,_ down to earth and homey, woven blankets and pillows, wicker boxes and chairs, handmade vases. It evoked a cozy cottage on the lake, or a cabin in a mountain retreat. It smelled like Nicole did, that distant sweetness of vanilla dipped donuts and something unique to her; strong, woodlike. 

“Make yourself at home. I really, really, need to get out of these khakis.”

“Aw, they’re not that bad!” Waverly said.

“They make my ass look weird.”

“You mean great?”

Nicole bit her lip and smiled. “If you say so.” She turned to walk up the stairs before stopping halfway. “Oh, watch out for Calamity Jane. She’s hiding somewhere, as usual.”

“I’ll keep my eyes peeled,” Waverly said, watching Nicole make the rest of the way up the stairs. She exhaled a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding and went to take in the rest of Nicole’s home.

The fridge magnets were what caught her attention first. They were all from various places, national parks and destinations that Waverly could only dream of visiting one day. She knew Nicole was well traveled, but she didn’t know she got around this much. She traced her finger over the enamel of the Algonquin Park magnet, imagining what it’d be like to hike through its trails, to canoe far out in the lake early in the morning before the world awoke. Maybe if things went well, Nicole could take her beyond Purgatory, anywhere that wasn’t the prison of the Ghost River Triangle.

She was inspecting a Las Vegas magnet when her investigation was cut short by a muffled meow from the living room closet. When she opened the door, a streak of orange came leaping out past her and onto the floor, Calamity Jane eyeing Waverly with suspicion.

“Jeez, you scared me!” Waverly’s voice went up a whole octave, taking on that soft quality that every human instinctively knew was the correct way to talk to animals. Cautiously, she reached out to pet her, Calamity not having any of it and darting away to burrow herself under the couch. Not a good start to their relationship.

“C’mon Calamity,” Waverly said, crawling onto her hands and knees to peer under the couch, seeing a defiant ball of orange fluff. Getting into Calamity Jane’s good graces was now her mission in life, like winning her approval would be proof to Nicole that she was a nice, good person. Searching the floor around her, she spotted a ball with a bell inside, shaking it in front of the couch.

“Calamityyy. C’mon girl!”

The cat didn’t bother acknowledging Waverly, her tail curling inward as an extra “screw you”. The stairs behind her creaked and she scrambled to her feet, facing an amused, khaki-less Nicole. She was now dressed in a button up and pair of jeans, her red hair out of its braid and framing her soft face. It was strange seeing her out of uniform. It was as if a hard layer had been peeled off to reveal the soft core inside.

“I see you made your introductions.”

Waverly sighed. “I think I scared her.”

“She’ll warm up eventually.” She brushed Waverly’s arm, taking a moment to look at Waverly in the privacy of her own home. With Nicole closer to her now, Waverly could smell her perfume (cologne?), a complex mix of conifer, pinewood, and amber. “But I know how to speed things along for the two of you.”

Walking to the kitchen, Nicole grabbed a bag of treats of the counter and handed it to Waverly. The sound of the opening bag had Calamity speeding out from under the couch, looking up at Waverly expectantly.

“Here you go!” Waverly knelt down and handed the treat over, Calamity happily munching long enough to receive a quick pet on her back before she shrunk back and made for the stairs.

“Well, it’s a start.”

“The beginning of a beautiful friendship.” Nicole took the bag of treats, Waverly peering through the runs at the railing at Calamity sizing her up with a bored stare.

“If it’s alright, I need to relax a bit before I start cooking,” Nicole said, reappearing from the kitchen and wiping her hands on her jeans.

“Totally okay!” She was glad; Waverly wanted a bit of downtime, just the two of them. Sitting on the blue couch, she cuddled a throw pillow to her stomach, Nicole curling up beside her and picking up the remote.

“Any preference?” Nicole asked.

“The Food Network’s always my default,” Waverly suggested. Nicole complied, turning the channel and placing the remote neatly on the side table. Waverly didn’t recognize whatever show was on. It’d been a while since she sat and watched TV, and Waverly knew she wouldn’t actually be watching it with Nicole beside her. For the first few minutes, the two of them sat stock-still, Waverly unsure of what the proper couch-cuddle initiation protocol was. She decided that anything was better than the awkward meter apart and shuffled over to Nicole, pressing up against her shoulder. Nicole looked relieved as she swung her arm around Waverly, who eased into Nicole's side and pretended to watch TV. It was a host she wasn't familiar with, but whatever she was making looked appetizing. She wondered what meal Nicole had in mind for the two of them.

“I should bring my Wii sometime,” Waverly said. She knew Nicole wasn’t experienced in video games, but it would be something new she could show her and do together.

“Why? So you can kick my ass?”

“No! It’d be fun. Though kicking your butt would be a bonus.”

“I really wouldn’t be much competition...and I’m very competitive.”

Waverly gasped at the idea that popped into her head. “You could play Wii Sports!”

“Well, maybe I’d have a fighting chance. I was always into sports. Tried to join every team I could in high school.”

It occurred to Waverly that Nicole would look _very_ attractive in a Jersey. “Same! Well, the non-athletic ones. The closest I got to sports was being a cheerleader.”

“You were a cheerleader?” Nicole gaped. That caught her attention.

“Purg High Cheer Captain,” Waverly said, matter of fact.

“Wow. If I went to my school I’d’ve known I was gay way sooner.”

“Same. Obviously...considering you were the one who made me realize.” A proud smirk appeared on Nicole’s lips. Waverly wasn’t entirely sure what exactly she was yet in terms of the entire queer umbrella. All she knew was that she liked Nicole, and for now, that was more than enough for her. “Hey...I don’t know if it’s a faux pas to ask but…”

“How did I know I was gay?”

Waverly nodded. “Yeah.”

“It’s seriously the most stereotypical way of finding out. I was on the rugby team as a lock. I’m pretty sure half of the team was gay, but the fullback-”

“Okay, whoa, hold on, I need a dictionary here.”

Nicole laughed. “Right. Sorry. Uh…” she fumbled for a scrap piece of paper and pen on her coffee table and drew a stacked formation, three circles at the bottom, four in the middle, and one at the top.

“So in rugby, there’s forwards and backs. Backs are runners, and then forwards are the people who slam against the other formation during scrums-which is this huddle.” She tapped her pen on one of the inside circles in the middle row. “That’s where I was. Since I’m tall and not much of a runner, I was a lock. That means I hold up the props and the hooker.”

Waverly laughed. “Sorry. The hooker?”

“The short scrappy ones who kick the ball back. The props hold them up by putting their hands down their shorts.”

Sports were beyond Waverly’s expertise, but this was by far the weirdest one she’d learned about. “Who invented this? Or named these?”

“Yeah, the rules are ridiculous even if you do play sports. I mean, even the uniforms are weird. The regulation shorts are too short and are always at risk at being pulled down, so you have to wear compression shorts underneath that are _longer_ than the actual shorts. It looks ridiculous. And trust me, there were a lot of hooker and hands-down-pants jokes. And with a bunch of teenagers…” After so many times Waverly had gone on ramble about something, she was glad it was Nicole's turn. It was adorable seeing her get excited and lost about something she was passionate about.

Nicole cleared her throat. “Anyways, the fullback. She was team captain. I thought I just admired how well she played. But I realized I thought more about how she looked, that warm fuzzy feeling I got when she told me I did a good job. I was excited for practice because I got to see her.”

“And it clicked?”

“Pretty much. It made so much sense to me that I didn’t have to think about it too hard. Being a tomboy as a kid, me not being that into my boyfriends. It helped my team talked about it so much too. When I came out, everyone was so excited for me. It felt really good.”

“And your crush?”

“Straight. Go figure I went and crushed on one of the only straight girls on the team. But it worked out in the end. I met you.”

Waverly smirked. “Now look at me, dating a jock.”

“And look at me, dating the head cheerleader.”

“You know, remove the whole gay thing, and we would’ve made a pretty picture perfect high school couple,” Waverly said.

“Oh god no. High school me was a disaster.”

Waverly scoffed. While everyone had an awkward teenager phase, she couldn't see Nicole as anything but contained and put together. “Seriously? You?”

“Seriously. Me.”

“I can’t imagine you ever being a disaster. You’re so...adjusted.”

“Being a confused baby gay in high school tends to make you a disaster one way or another.”

“Oh.” Waverly’s face fell. That was something she never considered—or had to.

“It wasn’t that bad!” Nicole attempted to make Waverly feel better. “Big city school...it could’ve been much worse.”

“That bad meaning…?”

“Typical high school stuff. Had a few “dykes” thrown at me. The usual.”

The nonchalance in which Nicole said it was heartbreaking. Naturally, Waverly had thought about what people would say about her when she was out; it was inevitable. But to hear from Nicole that slurs were the usual? That was something she couldn’t imagine getting used to.

“That shouldn’t have been typical.” Waverly placed her hand on top of Nicole’s, who went rigid underneath.

“Yeah. But back then it was preferable. I...may have gotten into a fight over it.”

“Like, a physical fight?”  she asked. Nicole nodded. “What happened? If you’re okay with saying.”

Unfurling her arm from Waverly, Nicole brought her hands together, circling her wrist with her middle finger and thumb. “There was this guy—edgy asshole. We never got along to begin with. I figured it was better to ignore him...that reacting to it or defending myself meant he’d won or something.” Nicole’s nostrils flared in residual anger. “One day it got really, really bad. It was lunch hour and we were both in the hallway. And he starts saying all these things. Nothing I hadn’t heard from him before—it’s unnatural, disgusting, I just needed some dick.”

Disgust boiled in Waverly’s stomach. Figuring out her sexuality this late in life was something Waverly almost felt ashamed of. But hearing Nicole talk about how hard it was for her in high school made her grateful that she was older, better equipped to deal with the eventual issues that would pop up. Being in a small town, kids would’ve made her life hell. Not to mention she was well aware that she wouldn’t have accomplished nearly as much as she did if she was anything but straight. She knew how she came off to people; smart, agreeable, an all around nice girl. All of that would've been overlooked. And, she was beginning to realize, could very well happen now. 

“What a shitbag.”

“Shitbag’s right. I tried walking past him and he kept following me. Then he decided to drop the f bomb. _That_ f bomb.”

“Jesus.” Waverly didn’t know what to say.

“Turns out that was the last straw for me. Next thing I know he’s on the ground and I’m standing above him. I didn’t even know he gave me a black eye until I was called to the office. But the principal handled it alright. She knew that punishing me would send a mixed message, so she let me off without a detention. She didn’t even call my parents.”

“That was good of her but...my god. Did your parents ask about your black eye?”

Nicole shrugged. “With some cover up they didn’t notice. It was still obvious, but they were never around me enough to get a good look at me anyways.”

Waverly was incredulous. Had it been her with even a hair misplaced on her head, Aunt Gus would’ve brought a shotgun to that kid’s doorstep. Gay—or bi, or pan, or whatever Waverly was that she hadn't figured out just yet—or not, Gus wouldn't have stood for it. She was the catalyst to Waverly asking Nicole out, after all.

And if Wynonna knew someone had hurt her? A felony would’ve happened.

“I’m so, so sorry Nicole. You shouldn’t have had to go through that.”

Nicole waved her hand. “You don’t have to be. It was a long time ago. But you know what the worst part was? No one did anything. If someone told him to stop or stepped in, it wouldn’t have ended like that.”

“You friends didn’t stick up for you?”

A bitter laugh. “Yeah, let’s say I started reevaluating my friendships after that. I should’ve done it sooner. They’d always say it was sooo cool I wasn’t some angry lesbian feminist and how I didn’t make being gay a “thing”. I took it as a compliment.”

Waverly shook her head. “What, they were glad you weren’t you?”

“Basically. Looking back, I realize I didn’t dress or act the way I wanted because I was afraid people would think I was a stereotype. Like I was proving I could be...I don’t know. What I thought was normal. It never felt right.”

“Like wearing a pair of jeans that are too tight.”

“Just like that. Like your skin is crawling and you don’t know why, but you know you have to get out.” Nicole’s shoulders dropped. “Thing is, I had the girls on my team I could’ve hung out with. I thought if I did I’d be giving in or something. And I didn’t want to lose the friends I had.”

Waverly let herself think about Champ. There was a point in her life where she really did like him. Sure, limited dating options, but he could be occasionally funny. They liked some of the same things. And when things went downhill, when he pulled all of the absolute shit he pulled, Waverly forgave him—no, that was the wrong word—let things slide. Because she did like him once, and maybe things could change, maybe that original spark was still there and it all wasn’t completely pointless. Champ, all of her “friends”—they were there because it was easier to keep someone than confront the possibility of being alone. It shouldn’t have taken a skull to get Waverly to realize who the people worth keeping were. Chrissy. Wynonna. Even Doc.

And Nicole. She was someone worth keeping around too.

“It’s hard to cut people out of your life. Even if they are a toxic radioactive landfill,” Waverly said.

“Especially when you’re that young. I had to figure out the whole lesbian thing on top of just regular teenager figuring stuff out. But, I came to my senses eventually. Turns out surrounding yourself with people who understand you is a good thing.” Nicole must’ve seen the gears in Waverly’s head turning. “Are you doing okay? With...you know, all of this?”

Waverly stared at the TV. The host was mixing up a batch of brownies. “I don’t know. People have seen my one way my whole life. I mean, I dated _Champ_. I don’t think I could’ve been in a more heteronormative relationship if I tried. And suddenly...this happens.” She fiddled with the hem of her sleeves. “It shouldn’t matter. But it does. I don’t want them to see me as someone else, but I don’t want them not to see that part of me either. If that makes sense?”

"Completely. I wanted people to ignore it at first. You know, have it be that "and I just happen to be a lesbian" thing. It's better to just own it. Because no matter what, it's a part of you. Your life is just... different when you're out. It's always at the forefront in ways you don't realize. What you can say to people, if it's safe. All those little questions about if you have a boyfriend. It's the small stuff that eats away at you."

Waverly thought about her morning with Wynonna and how she assumed Waverly would date a guy next. While Wynonna had no reason to think otherwise, it was a tiny, insignificant comment that made Waverly feel invisible. "Yeah. I think I'm starting to get that now," she mumbled. "It’s not like I want people to make a scene about it. I just don’t want them to pretend it isn’t happening."

Nicole nodded in sympathy. “When I told my parents, they basically said “that’s nice” and went back to their newspapers. They never brought it up again and I felt like I couldn’t either.”

“Your parents don’t really sound like the excitable type.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Nicole scowled. “I didn’t expect a rainbow cake and a “we love our gay daughter” bumper sticker. But I wanted _something._ Any reaction at all.”

“You wanted to know they cared. Were listening.”

“Yeah. Silence is just...silence.”

Waverly understood. “That’s what I’m afraid of with Wynonna. She’s not an idiot. But for some reason she’s not seeing it, and for some reason I can’t tell her so she can. I felt more comfortable telling Henry about it. Is that weird?”

Nicole’s voice was soft, comforting, one of the many things Waverly found so incredible about her. “Not at all, Wave. Sometimes it’s harder to tell the people closest to you, no matter how accepting you know they’ll be.” 

Waverly gulped. "Nicole...I don't even know what I am yet. Or if that's supposed to matter, or if...augh. It's like, how can I tell someone what I am if I don't even know, you know?" And secretly, though she'd never tell Nicole, Waverly was afraid Nicole would be wary of her if she didn't have an answer.

"You don't have to know right now—hell, or ever. Sometimes sexuality changes." She took Waverly’s hands into her own and brought it to her lap, making sure she had her full attention.

“Waverly, there doesn’t have to be a reason for why you can’t tell her yet. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like it’s time, and that’s okay. You can be as loud and proud or as quiet as you want. This is completely up to you.” 

 _It was always up to you,_ Doc’s statement echoed. “And you’re okay with that? Not being public?"

“Completely, one hundred percent okay.”

Overwhelmed, Waverly reached up to cup Nicole’s cheek and drew her in for a kiss. She was wrong before. Nicole was a unicorn, lightning caught in a bottle that she could keep close to her chest. Falling back, Waverly pressed their foreheads together, running her hands along Nicole’s neck. “I don’t want to hide this forever. But for now…”

“I follow your lead.”

Another kiss. “You’re really great, you know that?”

It was intoxicating feeling Nicole melt under her hands, how someone so strong could be disarmed by someone like her. Nicole just smiled, tickling Waverly’s nose with her own.

“I hope you still feel the same after I make dinner.”


	3. I Saw You Too

Dinner was better than expected. Nicole considered her cooking merely passable on most days, her mental recipe book consisting of quick meals she learned while in college—Kraft Dinner, spaghetti, any noodle-and-sauce combination, really. For tonight she decided on pad thai. It was easy to make vegan for Waverly, and it was within her modest skill level. Waverly seemed happy with it, and that was all that mattered to Nicole. She attributed its success to Waverly’s company, how maybe everything was just better with her around.

Not happy to sit and watch, Waverly insisted on helping, cutting vegetables while the two of them made smalltalk. It was pleasantly domestic, the two of them falling into the rhythm of chopping knives, Waverly smiling beside her. It was too early to think about the future, Nicole knew, but if this was a glimpse into what things could be, she was pretty stoked.

They were back on the couch again, the TV ignored for hours now. The darkness outside marked the late hour, the glow of the streetlights settling in around them. Waverly was slumped on Nicole’s shoulder, her breathing relaxed and slow, a sign that she’d drifted off to sleep. Nicole sat still, deciding to let her rest a while longer, idly watching the Oilers game she switched to when Waverly had dozed off.

She lightly rubbed the arm wrapped around her waist, not wanting to wake Waverly. Their previous conversation got deeper than Nicole anticipated. High school wasn’t a time Nicole liked to be open about. Not because it was hard, but because she didn’t enjoy the pity from people who didn’t understand. This time, however, was different. It was actually cathartic. And Waverly, thankfully, was all sympathy, her big heart worn on her sleeve and reaching out for the Nicole of past and present. Being honest about it was for Waverly’s benefit. Maybe it’d help her come to terms with this new part of herself—the good and the challenging. Talking with Waverly was easy, that initial barrier of silences broken, not having to keep their conversations brief when it was just the two of them alone. Waverly’s vast knowledge of seemingly everything was refreshing, and she made Nicole laugh with her wordy joke construction and use of million dollar essay words in casual conversation. She could make anything interesting and her excitement was endearing and contagious. The worlds they grew up in were so different, a counterbalance to the big city life Nicole was accustomed to. She did like travelling, after all, and this was another form of it. With Waverly, she’d learn something new every time they talked, and she'd expand her worldview in things unconsidered.

Nicole was happy. How could she not be with Waverly in her arms?

It would be selfish to keep her for longer, despite how good it felt to have Waverly laying against her. With a gentle shake from Nicole, Waverly stirred, making an adorable little sound of confusion.

“Waves?”

“Mm’wake!” Waverly sat up and rubbed her eyes, looking at Nicole sleepily.

“Very convincing.”

“Shush, you.” Waverly peered out the window and visibly shrunk. “Oh crap. What time is it?”

“A bit past ten.”

Disappointed, Waverly slumped into the couch and rolled her head back. “I should probably go,” she groaned. “But I’m so cooomfy.”

An offer could be made, but Nicole was hesitant. They hadn’t been together for that long. Was it too early to ask Waverly to sleep over? Quickly weighing her options, she decided to take a chance on it. “You could stay over, if you want. I can drive us over to the station in the morning. Absolutely fine if you’d rather head back home! I can drive you back too.”

Waverly tilted her head in thought. “I _do_ have a change of clothes in my bag for emergencies. It’s a Shorty’s uniform but…” she looked at Nicole apologetically. “I might have to borrow some pj's.”

“I got some stuff you can wear. You might swim in it though.”

“Sounds good to me!”

“Awesome. I’ll go get ‘em for you.” The question loomed above Nicole, and she could feel it over Waverly’s head too; where was she going to sleep?

There was no way in hell Nicole would be the one to bring it up first. Every move Nicole made was done at Waverly’s behest, letting her set the pace of their new relationship. Sure, sharing a bed wasn’t that big of a deal—it’s not like any of them had intentions of _that_ tonight. Even so her top priority was Waverly’s comfort. There would always be another time.

“The guest room’s all set up. No one actually uses it, so. You’ll have the honour of being the first.”

The way Waverly looked at Nicole reminded her of their first kiss, when Waverly sat between her legs and suggested that maybe, just maybe, Nicole should stop talking too. The hesitancy before she spoke wasn’t indecision; it was a calm before the storm, staying in the moment before everything changed. “I can sleep somewhere else too, you know.”

“Oh. Well the couch is pretty comfortable if you’d rather— _oh_.” At seeing Waverly’s smug amusement, she understood. Nicole forced her excitement down, not getting her hopes up quite yet. “Are you sure?”

“Completely.” Waverly slid her arms around Nicole’s neck, giving her a quick kiss and running her hand through her hair. “I want to, as long as that’s okay with you.”

Not only was Waverly okay with it, but she was asking _her_ if that’s what she wanted. Her, the one who had been pining so long for Waverly’s affection, the one who imagined what it would be like to feel Waverly’s lips on her own, to feel those slender fingers run through her hair the way they did now. Nicole couldn’t help but laugh, almost not believing that she ever found someone as wonderful as Waverly Earp.

“Yeah. Yeah it is.”

At hearing Nicole’s confirmation, Waverly smiled in that way Nicole adored, her nose crinkling and eyes bright. “Thanks for making sure.”

“Of course. I don’t want to push you into something you’re not ready for, especially since…” Nicole thought she said something wrong when Waverly turned serious.

“No...no,” Waverly shook her head. “It’s not about being with a woman. I’d want anyone to ask what I’m okay with.” When her hand slid onto her chest, Nicole wondered how anything could feel so heavy yet so airlight. “Can we actually turn in now, though? I passed out once already. Didn’t get much sleep.”

“Neither did I,” Nicole admitted. The ordeal of her abduction still bit into her nightmares, her imagination filling in the gaps of her memory with things worse than what actually happened. The strangest was how she could feel the pain of fire all around her in each dream, irrelevant, yet somehow deeply familiar in a way she didn’t understand.

Tonight would be different. With Waverly by her side she would have a peaceful sleep.

 

* * *

Nicole Haught was tall. That wasn’t really saying much, considering Waverly was used to being shorter than everyone. But the fact still remained; Nicole Haught was tall.

This fact couldn’t have been more highlighted than it was now, Waverly opening the door to Nicole’s room, wearing her pajamas and holding the legs up so she wouldn’t trip. Nicole was wrong. Waverly wasn’t swimming in her clothes as much as drowning in them.

Covering her mouth, Nicole tried to hide her laughter, the sight undeniably comical. “I know, I know, I’m shuffling around like a poorly dressed zombie,” Waverly said, shuffling over to the bed before her pants fell off, “at least I’m covered.”

“There’s always that,” Nicole said, looking around her own room as if it was unfamiliar to her. “Is there anything you need to sleep? Glass of water, nightlight…”

Waverly giggled at Nicole, the normally stoic woman scattered and nervous trying to make sure everything was right. Honestly, Waverly didn’t think it was that big of a deal to share a bed with Nicole. It was part of the excitement of any new relationship, the first night of falling asleep together. After having to play it casual ever since she kissed Nicole for the first time, Waverly was looking forward to closer physical contact, and she’d be lying if she hadn’t thought about what Nicole would feel like in her arms.

She looked at the bed and noted the number of blankets. “Do you have extra blankets? I usually sleep with...um, a lot of them.”

“A lot meaning…”

“Three? Plus a bonus blanket.”

Nicole was mortified. “How have you not suffocated yet?” she said, standing up to go to the hallway closet.

“I like feeling all warm and cocoon-y!” Waverly called after her, willing to defend her pile of blankets to the death. “It’s like a big hug.”

“I’ll have to see if I even have that many,” Nicole said over her shoulder, Waverly hearing the sound of rummaging outside of the room.

“It’s probably fine. The Homestead is out in the middle of nowhere, so it gets pretty cold without proper heating.”

Nicole reappeared with a duvet, quilt, and comforter, lifting them awkwardly onto the bed with a grunt. “Hope that’s enough?”

“Yeah, this’ll be fine.” Waverly patted them. “Thanks.”

“No problem, baby.”

Both of them froze at the pet name, wearing the same “oh shit” expression, Waverly’s stomach leaping to her throat the same way it had in Nicole’s car.

“Shit. That kinda slipped out and I don’t know where we are on pet names yet…”

Grabbing Nicole’s hand and leading her to the bed, Waverly rubbed her arm to reassure her. “It’s okay. I like it, actually. It’s one of the few pet names that don’t sound weird to me.” Relief washed over Nicole as she let out an exhale. She was tense, obviously embarrassed.

“Nicole...I know you’re really trying to make sure I’m comfortable, and I want us to keep asking each other things. But you can relax. Really. You’ll know if I don’t like something, okay?”

Nicole turned her head upward to the ceiling and choked out a laugh. “I’m a bit uptight sometimes, huh?”

“No. Just careful.” She eased Nicole backwards onto the bed, who, while surprised, let herself fall onto her back as Waverly laid beside her, wrapping an arm around Nicole’s stomach. Waverly sighed, sinking into the fluffy pillow and noticed that it smelled like Nicole, much to her delight. Nicole brought her hand to Waverly, her fingertips resting at the base of her neck, the light scratches soothing and sending tingles through Waverly's scalp. She surrendered to the electric touches, effortlessly losing herself in Nicole and letting her wash everything away. Burdens were swept up and carried elsewhere, leaving nothing but her and the awareness of now; Nicole, her bed, the overwhelming, singular emotion of the correctness of this moment. Running her fingers along Nicole's ribs, she hummed to herself, noting how Nicole's hold tightened ever so slightly at Waverly's ministrations.

“You know what Henry said to me today?” Waverly said.

“What?”

“This—us—was always up to me. That you bided your time and wouldn’t as me first because you wanted me to be the one in control. My whole life has been me reacting to it and it’s happening too fast and…” Waverly took a second to catch her breath, aware her words were running away from her.

“For once, when it was something that really mattered, I finally had a say in it. You gave me time to realize what I wanted. And I know you want me to set the pace,” Waverly brought her fingertips under Nicole’s chin, tilting her head up so she could look into her gorgeous brown eyes. “But I wouldn’t mind if you kissed me first sometimes.”

The sentence hung in the air between them like humidity on a summer night, Waverly examining Nicole’s eyes to see what she was thinking and what would happen next. Nicole’s winning smile was the last thing Waverly saw before she was pulled on top and felt soft lips on her own, intense in its delicacy, Waverly holding onto Nicole’s face to keep herself grounded. Because if she let go, she’d fly up and get lost in the sky somewhere, and all she wanted is to be present, here, with Nicole. She adored the way Nicole felt under her, the way their chests pressed close enough that Waverly could feel each hitch in her breath. It was fascinating how she could feel so soft on top of her sturdy frame, a reversal of how Nicole carried herself in life, strong and measured on the surface with a quiet sensitivity inside. And when Waverly felt Nicole’s tongue brush against her bottom lip, she felt her chest would crack open. The only way to quell the cataclysm was to let Nicole in, to pour all she had into kissing her, to complete the connection she felt the moment they met. And maybe it was unromantic to make such an observation, but Waverly couldn’t help but notice the coolness of mint on Nicole’s tongue. Mouthwash. Of course Nicole maintained proper before-bed hygiene.

But it was perfect, slow and deep and breathtaking, Nicole letting Waverly set the pace kiss after kiss, each time their tongues met. Feeling emboldened, Waverly moved her lips lower to Nicole’s jaw then to the base of her neck, earning a surprised breathy sigh. The sound was a lit match on gasoline through Waverly’s body, too much for her to handle. This wasn’t the time—not tonight, not yet. Correcting her course back to Nicole’s lips, her hand cradled her cheek in another kiss before pulling back to gaze at the woman underneath her, needing to see that this was indeed real, that she hadn’t passed out on her desk at the Homestead and dreamt the whole thing.

“You’re a good kisser,” were all the words her short-circuiting brain could awkwardly formulate, Nicole’s cheeks flushed pink and god, those eyes, they were filled with an amazement that Waverly felt lucky to be the object of.

“Right back at you,” Nicole said, out of breath and sweeping Waverly’s long hair behind her. Waverly smiled and bent down one last time, giving Nicole a soft, chaste kiss before rolling to the side and grabbing all of the blankets, resting her head on Nicole’s shoulder and listening to her quickened heartbeat, resonating like thunder in the distance after it rained.

“You’re so comfy.”

Waverly could feel Nicole’s laugh through her body. “What, I’m your pillow now?”

“Yep. A nice, soft pillow.”

There was more to that type of comfort, of course, the excitement of new closeness, of learning how their bodies fit together and how they would eventually meld, like hands imprinting in clay.

“Hey Nicole? How did you know?”

Another chuckle. “I thought I already told you.”

“I mean...how did you know about me?”

Waverly could feel Nicole’s breath change its rhythm beneath her, a momentary quarter rest so subtle she wasn’t sure she felt it at all. “Do you know why I came to Shorty’s that day?”

“To hit on the cute barmaid?”

“She was a bonus, yeah,” said Nicole. “I actually came by to check on a disturbance the night before. Ask questions, maybe get a coffee.”

“Which I totally didn’t make...and you totally didn’t ask me anything.”

“I got a little distracted.”

Waverly giggled. “Wait, so you’re saying…”

“That I was a useless lesbian and panicked as soon as I saw you? Yeah.”

This was news to Waverly. Confidence was something Nicole had an abundance of, and she sure seemed to know what she was doing when she introduced herself. That she was just as nervous as she was…. it made Waverly glad she wasn’t the only one who’d felt absolutely lost since the second they laid eyes on each other. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

Nicole hummed. “Honestly? I can’t explain it. I saw you and…” she shrugged. “I saw you.”

“Covered in beer and taking my shirt off?”

“Yeah what as with that anyway? Wasn’t your room upstairs?”

“I was in the middle of a crisis! And I’m sure you’re not complaining.”

“Hey, I wasn’t looking!” Nicole protested.

“I know, silly,” Waverly kissed Nicole’s cheek. “And I know what you mean.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Because I saw you too.”

The air was swept out of Nicole’s lungs, her face nuzzling against Waverly’s hair before she took another breath. Waverly pressed her cheek into the soft cotton of Nicole’s shirt; vanilla dipped donuts, familiar and sweet, so sweeping that Waverly had to close her eyes, letting scent sound and touch become her primary senses. She could feel Nicole and all that she was, the vast expanse of her chest, the sound of each inhale and exhale cycled through her lungs. And it was perfect because it was her, the thing that still scared Waverly the most.

Nicole was the fall out of a plane, a journey out into the ocean where she couldn’t see how deep its depths went. Giving up control to the unknown was scary only if she let it. Because for once giving in wasn’t giving up. It was getting lost in the freefall and knowing she had a parachute, being in the water and knowing how to swim. And when the light went dark outside of her eyelids, the click of the lamp lead Waverly off to sleep, thinking of all the things she could do next.


	4. Safe With Me

sour fruit

                      cold

 

eyes wide and wild desperately searching the still image pressed to her eyelids

 

                                a sideways unchanging landscape of snow and trees

 

curled up on her side screaming at her limbs to move and the failed attempts                          piling

 

the snow was so so so cold in contrast to the warmth flowing from her head and arms sticky thick stinging her eyes

 

                                                                                                                                                                                                           (blood?)

 

she was bleeding out.

 

                                                                                                                                                       but crimson

 

                                                                                                           a bold colour

 

                                                     it did look quite beautiful against white.

 

she smelled smoke before she saw the fire, the image jolting upright and turning to summer night. she was on her feet again, by a river somehow, the water reflecting the march of flames ripping its way through the trees, and the collective cry of hundreds up and above her somewhere.

her legs still weren’t listening. rooted like the trees in front of her. the flames were too close, her skin too hot. all there was to do was watch and observe and imbibe and the fire was singeing and destroying her face and arms and chest and the air was nothing and too thick and str

* * *

 

 

Nicole woke up choking. Panic was a burning brand on her sternum, her throat trying to familiarize itself with clean air. Confused and half-awake she tried to move, her limbs remembering they had bones as she scrambled to the side of her bed, needing to feel the floor beneath her feet.

She tensed when she felt the bed move behind her, somehow forgetting Waverly was with her, that she’d fallen asleep with her head on her shoulder. She whipped her head around to see despite knowing she wouldn’t be able to make anything out in the dark. She held her breath and strained to hear if Waverly had woken up.

_one one thousand two one thousand three one thousand_

Mercifully, she heard nothing but light breathing and the sound of the house groaning in the night weather. Quietly, carefully, she stood up to get a glass of water, but most of all needing to get away from Waverly.

The light of the kitchen burned her eyes, Nicole half lidding them as she searched for a glass and fumbled at the tap. The water tasted bad and bitter but it didn’t matter. She needed to not feel the sandpaper dryness that was her throat. Leaning against the counter, Nicole rubbed at her forehead, feeling the small recessed line above her eyebrow. It was almost healed. It probably wouldn’t even scar.

_Unlike my emotional state,_ Nicole thought bitterly, pressing her teeth together and collapsing into a dining chair. She really thought tonight would be different. It was supposed to be different. her night with Waverly was everything she’d hoped for and more, the happiest since moving to Purgatory. Her brain apparently didn’t give a shit. It seemed more interested in leaving Nicole hunched like some wounded creature in the too-bright light of her kitchen, grasping a cup of water like it was supposed to save her.

At least she hadn’t woken Waverly. Logically, Nicole knew there was no shame in the nightmares, that it was counterproductive and a result of being too hard on herself. But knowing wasn’t the same as feeling. It did nothing to chase away the embarrassment, disappointment, and absolute relief that Waverly didn’t have to see her like this. From what Nicole saw in Wynonna at the station, Waverly already had her older sister to look after. And if Nicole was taking her abduction this poorly, she couldn’t begin to imagine the hell Wynonna was going through. Knowing her, she was probably deflecting it with bad jokes and even poorer coping mechanisms, leaving Waverly to watch her big sister disintegrate from afar. Nicole was aware of the parallel; they were both leaving Waverly in the dark for the same reason. Turned out they had more in common than she thought.

Calamity Jane padded into the kitchen, bushy tail swaying behind her as she looked up at Nicole expectantly. Setting her glass down on the table, she patted her lap, Calamity jumping up for Nicole to per her soft orange fur. The purring was soothing, Nicole’s head less muddled and senses working at their full capacity. A blessing but mostly a curse. She realized she was freezing, that particular type of cold that only came in the dead of night. Or…

Cold like death. Like sensing herself slipping away, blood caked with dirt on the side of the road. Panic set her nerves alight, so strong she could feel it in her teeth, in her fingernails.

_breathe in, breathe in come on come on come on_

Calamity moved under her hand, either annoyed that Nicole had stopped giving her attention, or, what Nicole wanted to think, noticed she was panicking and trying to calm her. Nicole resumed the pets, transfixed by the pale of her shaking arms and the blue of her veins through skin. She reminded herself to focus on even breaths, to talk herself through it.

_it’s okay this is temporary you’re here, keep it to-goddamn-gether haught_

She didn’t get very far.

“This fucking sucks, Calamity,” she said through chattering teeth. The cat blinked at her. “It really really sucks.”

Bile rose in her throat. Maybe if she had a way with languages like Waverly, she could better articulate the bludgeoning shattering her chest. As it was, she was at a loss for words. It sucked. That was it—she gulped the rest of her water—it plain old sucked.

Catching her thoughts spiraling again, Nicole forced herself back to her chant, knowing that even if she didn’t believe herself, it was better to fake it ‘till she made it, and it was definitely better than the things she _wanted_ to think.

_It’s okay. This is temporary. You’re here. It’s okay. This is temporary. You’re here. It’s okay. Waverly is upstairs and she’s here and you’ll both wake up in the morning and it’ll be okay._

She continued that way, deep breaths and letting her thoughts move away like ambling passersbys. It was effective enough for her to stop shaking so much, for her to get hit with how exhausted she was. Giving Calamity a loose hug—she didn’t want to smother her—Nicole smooched Calamity on top of her little head before easing her back down, deciding she’d settled enough to rejoin Waverly in bed.

“Thanks, girl.”

Calamity curled up under the table.

Darkness overtook the house once more when Nicole turned out the light, stepping on the balls of her feet up the stairs and back to her room. Waverly, thankfully, was still sleeping.

 

* * *

A gasp is what jarred Waverly awake. Disoriented, she momentarily forgot where she was until she made out the outline of Nicole’s shadow at the edge of the bed. Though she couldn’t see through the darkness, Waverly had the distinct feeling she was being watched. Unsure of what to do, Waverly pretended to be out, getting the impression that she was supposed to be asleep. The way Nicole stumbled out of the bedroom as quickly and quietly as possible told Waverly she was trying to get away from her. Conflicted, Waverly curled up in Nicole’s bed, bringing the many covers to her nose. She could hear the tap turned on in the kitchen, the slight scrape of a chair. Should she check on her? Should she even mention it? Or would it make it all worse? Guilt clawed at her stomach, knowing full well that like Wynonna, the source of Nicole’s nightmare— _nightmares_ —was Jack.

Waverly felt frustratingly useless. She couldn’t even do the one thing to alleviate Nicole’s pain; to tell her everything. All that Black Badge was. That her gut feeling about Purgatory was correct.

_Know thy enemy,_ after all. Problems were easier to confront when given a name. Nicole wouldn’t have to be left wondering if Waverly just said what sat on the tip of her tongue, on the verge of flying out, desperate to be heard. Instead Waverly had to chew back and choke on the taste of Nicole’s suffering, thick and coating her throat like tar.

Her last name was taking everyone around her. A curse that, no matter how much Waverly devoted to it, the university courses, her prized collection of archives, her entire _life_ , it was never enough to save anyone. Never enough to know the reasons why, what they could’ve possibly deserved to have blood so spoiled even Hell laughed at them.

And what good was she if she couldn’t figure it out? No, screw that; what good was she if she couldn’t even check to see if Nicole was alright?

She spent too long debating her options. Nicole entered the room again, her steps more steady across the floor this time. Waverly waited until Nicole was in bed before she spoke.

“Are you okay?”

The sound of Waverly’s voice made Nicole jump, not turning to look at Waverly and keeping her back turned. “I’m fine, Wave.”

Nicole might not want to talk about it, but Waverly would be damned if she didn’t do anything this time. Moving close to her, Waverly cautiously slid her arm around Nicole’s torso, pressing her chest to her back and holding Nicole close. A small thing, physical contact—but maybe enough.

“I'm here, baby. It’s okay.” She pressed her lips to Nicole’s shoulder. “You’re safe with me.”

Easing into the cuddle, Nicole squeezed Waverly’s arm, a silent thanks that made her know she did the right thing.


	5. Better

Yet another night where Nicole barely slept.

She woke up well before her alarm, before the grey blue light of a sunless day could creep through her window. She was exhausted; but she did it. She made it to morning with Waverly by her side, who was still draped around her, not breaking their connection even in sleep. For all the trouble of last night, waking up in Waverly’s arms was almost enough to erase the burnt edges of Nicole’s mind, still drained from all the energy her nightmare took from her.

She didn’t have to get up for a while yet, So she lay in bed, savouring how she felt when Waverly held her. Usually Nicole preferred to do the holding—her height did make her an excellent big spoon after all—but this was _good_ , Waverly’s head resting on Nicole’s back, their legs woven together. Nicole wished the calm could last forever, that she could stay in bed with Waverly until she didn’t have to be afraid to sleep anymore.

The alarm was cutting and unwelcome. Groaning in annoyance, Nicole pressed the off button and faced the now awaking Waverly, who, while looking quite sleepy, was already smiling.

“Hi.”

Nicole leaned forward to kiss her, Waverly’s grin growing wider under her lips.

“I can barely see you under your blanket fortress,” Nicole teased.

Waverly rolled her eyes. “Okay, but consider the fact that blankets are amazing.”

Nicole chuckled. “You do look kinda adorable. Like a bug in a...well, blanket. Blankets?”

“Mm. Such a way with words, Haught.”

Lifting the edges of all three-plus-a-bonus blankets, Nicole joined Waverly inside of her blanket nest, and had to admit that the combined weight on top of her felt surprisingly good. Maybe she should invest in a weighted blanket, she thought.

“I’ll leave the good at words bit to you, Miss Language Degree.”

“Language _and_ History, thank you very much.”

“Of course. My bad,” Nicole grinned.

Tucking Nicole’s hair behind her ear, Waverly’s smile faltered, Nicole inwardly shrinking under her searching gaze. “Nicole...um, about last night…”

Nicole gently took Waverly’s hand and brought it to her chest. “I’m okay. It was just a bad dream.”

But, of course, Waverly knew there was more to it than that. “Out of how many?”

“More than one.”

“Less than…”

“A lot.”

Nicole hated hearing her admission out loud, having it exposed in the open air as if she could see it in front of her. The sadness in Waverly’s eyes stung, knowing she was the one who caused it. Immediately Nicole felt defensive, scared that Waverly had taken to pitying her, that, as irrational as it was, she thought less of her, seeing the weakness Nicole tried so hard to bury like a casket.

“Hey,” Waverly said, splaying her fingers across the flat of Nicole’s chest. “It’s okay. You don’t have to feel bad about it. It isn’t your fault.”

Nicole jutted her haw forward. She was right, but the disconnect between rationality and emotion was too big.

“Is there anything I can do for next time?” Waverly tilted her head, trying to get into Nicole’s line of sight.

“Holding me helped. Thank you.”

“Anytime. Okay?”

Nicole was too focused on her imminent headache to answer her.

“Please? Nicole?”

When Nicole put on what she hoped was a convincing smile, she prayed Waverly couldn’t see the cracks in her rusting armour. “Alright.”

This didn’t feel like her. Confidence and self-assuredness were things she prided herself in, traits that she had to work at. Tired of feeling vulnerable and scared of who she was, she promised herself she wouldn’t go back to that place, directionless anger and hollow teenage posturing to cover up what she actually felt.

She felt herself reverting, slowly, like grains in an hourglass. Doubt was everywhere now. Her job and what she did, all of Purgatory and what was happening behind her back. Maybe she was delusional, thinking up stories of demons and monsters so she wouldn’t have to confront that things were just _hard_ , that sometimes, not everything had answers and were simply unexplainable.

 _No,_ she caught herself. _I’m not imagining this. Something happened to me._

And one day, she was going to figure it out, no many how many nightmares it took to get there. But for now there was one thing she could be sure about.

She kissed Waverly’s forehead and corrected her smile to something real. “And I’ll be there for you too. Even if you can’t say what’s wrong.”

That seemed to hit at something hidden in Waverly, the hand across Nicole’s chest tightening into a ball like she was trying to grasp at something invisible. “I’m sorry that I can’t. It’s—”

“Classified. I know.”

“It’s not that.” Nicole could see Waverly handpicking her words. “It’s...extremely, extremely complicated.”

Nicole nodded. If her hunch was correct—and she was pretty certain at this point—it was also personal. If she pursued this, who Jack was, what secrets were hidden in Purgatory, she might get more answers than she bargained for:

Whatever the hell was going on with the Earps. _Waverly._

“It’s okay, baby. I understand,” Nicole whispered. “But my offer still stands.”

Unclenching her fist, Waverly’s hand travelled down to Nicole’s waist, rubbing her hipbone with her thumb.

“And so does mine.”

 

* * *

Sometimes the most simple foods were the most satisfying. Cereal, for instance. It was hard to go wrong with cereal. When Waverly found an unopened box of Reese’s Puffs in Nicole’s pantry she was a little too enthusiastic, holding it above her head in triumph.

“Nicole! Yesss!”

Nicole’s eyes went wide at the display. “Wow. If that all it takes to get you excited, I should buy those more often.”

“They’re not even open yet!”

Nicole shrugged. “It was on sale and I haven’t found the right time to have them.”

“You need an occasion?”

“That much sugar for breakfast? Yes.”

Waverly sighed dramatically. “I guess I’ll have to take them off of your hands,” she said, gripping the handle of the fridge. “I don’t want you to be tempted by sugary goodness.”

“I’ll always remember your sacrifice,” Nicole said gravely.

Waverly popped out of the fridge, her excitement doubling. “You even have soy milk!”

“Yep, only high end stuff here. Soy milk and Reese’s Puffs.”

Grabbing herself a spoon and large bowl, Waverly moved to the table and set her breakfast spoils down, eagerly tearing into the box of cereal. “Look, there’s like, no food at the Homestead. Wynonna ate all of my Cinnamon Toast Crunch.”

“Didn’t you say she had Pizza Pockets? I’m sure she can return the favour after she stole your cereal,” Nicole said, spreading a modest amount of peanut butter onto her toast.

“Pizza Pockets for breakfast?”

“Uh, okay “eats Reese’s Puffs which are probably just as bad”.”

“Hey!” Waverly pointed at Nicole with the box of cereal in hand, “don’t bring my good cereal into this.”

Chuckling, Nicole joined Waverly at the table. “But seriously, nothing? Not even bread? That can’t be good.”

“We don’t have a lot of time to do groceries...or cook them. Also I’m kinda afraid of our stove? It hasn’t been used in forever.”

Nicole nodded slowly. “I guess a lot of stuff at the Homestead is pretty old.”

“Haven’t had time to replace a lot of it either. It was hard getting it to decrepit and smelling like eighty animals lived in it to tolerable.” Waverly took a giant spoonful of her cereal. Her and Wynonna put a lot of work into making the Homestead a home again. It was difficult at first. Everything had a memory associated with it, from perfectly plain and boring to...well.

Broken glass from the window Willa was taken from. Daddy’s badge. Their rooms as they left them covered in fifteen years of dust. Willa’s room was the hardest to deal with. Wynonna went inside without saying much of anything, her jaw locked in place and green eyes hardened as she surveyed the room. She said something, Waverly remembered, but it was too quiet to penetrate her own inner dialogue. They didn’t have to discuss it; they both knew the room would remain untouched.

“But,” Waverly said, not wanting to get so morose this early in the morning, “I think it looks nice now. It has some of its old charm back. And...it’s mine and Wynonna’s, right? It’s our legacy. Special.”

“All that land is pretty incredible too,” Nicole said. “Must be a nice view.”

“The best. There’s nothing around except us. But it’s a good kind of lonely.” Waverly swirled the puffs around in the milk, trying to get more of the peanut butter ones on her spoon. “Maybe you can see it soon. During a non-emergency situation.”

Nicole’s eyes lit up. “I’d like that.” She hesitated. “Wynonna gonna be okay with it?”

“She doesn’t hate you. You butt heads, maybe. But she doesn’t hate you.”

It was amusing how alike the two of them were. Stubborn, fiercely protective. Driven. Traits that, while the same, conflicted with one another. They’d probably get along quite well if they both didn’t know exactly which buttons to push on each other.

Nicole frowned. “Even if…”

“Even _when_ she finds out. She didn’t care when Champ was over...uh, much. And you’re definitely better than him.”

“Not a very high bar, Waves.”

“Exactly! So you’ll be fine. Right now she thinks I’m trying to make new friends, so…” Waverly stopped herself and winced. “God. I’m sorry, I know you said it’s fine but I feel so stupid that I can’t tell her.”

“It’s not stupid. Trust me, I get it. I had to do the whole “we’re just reaaaaaally close gal pal good friends” dance a few times in my life. Consider it an initiation.”

Waverly grumbled. “Couldn’t there be, you know, easier, more fun initiation things?”

“Hm. Meeting other queer people helps. It’s fun getting together, doing stuff without that wall you have to put up all the time. But…”

“Purgatory.”

Nicole shrunk in her chair. “Yeah. That.”

“I knew someone in high school—Robin Jett. He’s literally the only gay person I know besides you. After seeing how everyone treated him, I can see why.”

Waverly thought about him a lot lately, for obvious reasons. She knew he moved out of Purgatory as soon as he graduated—she couldn’t blame him—and wondered where he was now. He didn’t update his Facebook very often. He went to University to study jazz, but that was the extent of what she knew about him anymore. It was sort of sad. If Waverly knew her life took the turn it did, maybe things would have been better for the both of them.

Nicole was inspecting her toast. “The Big City is about as capital f Fine about all of that as it can be. Here...even I’ve had to adjust.”

“How so?”

“It feels different. It’s like—you know how you go to a Christmas dinner with your relatives and your head just adjusts to the situation? It’s not conscious. You just switch gears.”

“I haven’t really had an extended family Christmas situation, but I get the idea, yeah,” Waverly said. “I guess I have nothing to compare it to, so I’ve only felt different in the life-changing revelation way.”

“Oh, just that?” Nicole teased.

“Yep, just an existential crisis, no big deal.”

Nicole reached over the table and touched Waverly’s free hand. “Hey. It’s gonna be okay. Maybe we won’t find a secret gay commune any time soon, but…” she exhaled, “you have me.”

Taking Nicole’s hand into hers, she lifted it up and looked at their interlocking fingers, thinking of how such a simple gesture could impact her the way it did. “I guuuess you’ll do.”

Nicole laughed and finished off her orange juice, still watching Waverly as she poured herself another bowl of cereal. She read the side to go over the ingredient list, something she’d been doing as of late. She raised an eyebrow.

“Huh. These are vegan.”

Nicole turned the box so she could see for herself. “Well, now I definitely have to keep these around for you.”

Waverly smirked. “Then I guess I’ll have to come over again so I can have them.”

After they had finished breakfast, the two of them got ready together, both of them falling into their own morning routine. Seeing someone’s morning rituals was a picture into their private life, their small habits and things they considered necessary to face the day. Waverly noted all of the small things Nicole did, how she pet Calamity Jane for a good fifteen minutes while she skimmed the newspaper, how she was a morning shower person. Waverly showered too, excited by the thought that she’d smell like Nicole for the day. After all, scent was the most powerful sense when it came to memory recall, and Waverly wanted to remember their night together for a long time.

Soon they were both ready, Nicole walking downstairs in her uniform, her hair done up in her signature french braid. Waverly would think Nicole was gorgeous no matter how she did her hair, but privately, she adored when Nicole wore it down the most.

“Ready?”

Waverly stood from the couch, wishing she had something to wear other than her Shorty’s t-shirt. No amount of washing could get rid of the smell of booze and fried food.

“Yep.”

Nicole grabbed her Stetson and jacket from the coat rack and headed for the door, handing Waverly’s heavy bag over to her. “Make sure Calamity doesn’t make her great escape.”

Arriving on queue, Waverly glanced down and saw Calamity slinking around the corner, tail in the air and looking past Nicole and Waverly’s legs blocking the exit.

“Bye Calamity!” Waverly bent down and offered her hand. To her surprise and joy, Calamity nuzzled her head under her palm, letting Waverly get a good pet in.

“I did it!” Waverly gasped. Calamity’s eyes closed in content. “We’re friends now.”

“See? She just needed to warm up to you!” Nicole said. Waverly wasn’t sure if the pride in her voice was for her or the cat.

Giving Calamity a few more strokes, Waverly stood, adjusting her bag and giving one last look around Nicole’s home, imprinting it in her head like a lithograph. “See you soon, Calamity.”

Nicole beamed down at Waverly, the implication of there being a next time making her glow against the cloudy morning in the doorway. They awkwardly crab walked outside to block Calamity from running past them, Waverly holding the screen door open as Nicole locked up her house.

When they got beside Nicole’s car Waverly stopped her before she could step in.

“Hey you.”

Nicole tilted her head. “Hey yourself.”

Taking Nicole’s arms, Waverly wrapped them around her waist and pressed into the puffy warmth of Nicole’s Uniform jacket, the taller woman resting to chin on the crown on Waverly’s head. Waverly hummed. It was soothing like this. She felt like an animal inside the hollow of a tree, Nicole’s body a strong oak surrounding her to stave off the morning grey.

“I wish we didn’t have to do anything today,” Waverly said, feeling Nicole hold her tighter.

“I know baby. But noise complaints and X-Files-Men-In-Black mysteriousness waits for no one.”

Pulling back reluctantly, Waverly adjusted Nicole’s hat, cupping her cheek and standing on her tip toes for a kiss. They exchanged small smiles and filed into Nicole’s car, strapping their seatbelts on and Nicole sitting with keys in hand, staring at seemingly nothing.

“Are you going to be okay?”

Nicole grabbed the steering wheel with her left hand and stuck her keys in the ignition with the other, nodding confidently. “I will be. That’s better than where I started.”

“One day at a time,” Waverly said. For both of them.

Nicole gave one last sidelong glance. “Spice Girls?”

“Spice Girls,” Waverly agreed.

Chuckling, Nicole started the car and journied down the snowy streets of purgatory, music and each other’s company putting them in better spirits than where they began.


End file.
